


An Hour of Rest and Comfort

by karathegoddess



Category: Dragon Age, dragon age inquisiton
Genre: Adamant Fortress (Dragon Age), Dragon Age: Inquisition Quest - Here Lies the Abyss, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Dragon Age: Inquisition Quest - Here Lies the Abyss, Traumatized Inquisitor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-21
Updated: 2020-09-21
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:54:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26576356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/karathegoddess/pseuds/karathegoddess
Summary: Inquisitor Hadassah Cadash is faced with a difficult choice. One that even after she makes it, twists her up inside. Even if he can't fix it, Blackwall is ready and willing to help Hadassah in anyway possible.
Relationships: Blackwall/Cadash, Blackwall/Female Inquisitor
Kudos: 3





	An Hour of Rest and Comfort

Hadassah Cadash stared at the two humans before her. How could she choose? How could they put her in a position to choose? Hawke was Varric’s best friend. And Hadassah considered Varric among her best friends. It only took the three of them in a room at once and they had been throwing quips around since Hadassah had met Hawke. That was from a personal view. Of course from the Inquisitor’s view there was the only person left who could lead the Grey Wardens and well, Hawke.   
“I’ll do it, you two run.” Hadassah decided and started to charge forwards, but Hawke managed to throw an arm over her chest and Alistar had firm grip on her shoulder, both pushing her backwards.   
“You can’t, Inquisitor! You are too important.” Hawke protested.   
“She’s right, Herald. You’ve given these people hope, if you die now, so does that hope!” Alistair insisted. Hadassah wished that the spider monster from hell would quit it’s roaring so she could think properly for a moment. Hadassah was trying to keep that tear in the fade open as well. Normally her mark dully buzzed with pain. However with the effort she was exerting the pain was elevated ten fold. The spider thundered and shrieked, her mark hissed, Alistair or Hawke. It was overwhelming, but nothing was going to slow down until Hadassah made her fatal decision. Both were so ready and willing. Neither hesitate to offer themself. Hadassah came to her conclusion, even though she was pretty sure she had decided long ago and was only delaying the inevitable. She couldn’t get much more out than a strangled noise that resembled, “Hawke…” Hawke smiled sadly at Hadassah.   
“You’ve got it, Inquisitor. Tell Varric I’m sorry. And tell Fenris...tell Fenris I love him.” And with that the Champion surged forwards and gave that demon hell. Hadassah raced toward the Fades exit. While Alistair hurried through Hadassah risked one last glance back. Hawke already had a serious head wound, but she glanced up to Hadassah and gave her a curt nod. They didn’t know each other long enough to be anything close to friends, neither could pretend that. However, Hadassah nodded back. Because they knew each other well enough to have a strong mutual respect.  
Reluctantly, Hadassah jumped through the tear in the Fade and seeing the large stone battlements and Inquisition soldiers fighting Shades and other demons felt somewhat disorienting. She recovered quickly and Hadassah used as much energy she could summon to her Focus and wipe out the straggling demons. She had to clutch her arm to stabilize, the shooting pain engulfing her arm. Everyone cheered, but Hadassah felt as though the world was muted. They jumped, clapped and praised without any noise.   
All she could see was Hawke charging to her death. She chose for Hawke to do that. She actively made the choice. She all but told Hawke to kill herself. Why couldn’t they have all just made a mad dash to the end. Or...or something. Something that didn’t require someone dying. That spider demon may be the one to physically kill Hawke, but Hadassah knew damn well that blood was on her hands and her hands alone.   
“Where’s Hawke?” Varric looked down at the dwarf. Hadassah felt queasy upon imagining Hawk’s current state. Her face fell, which was enough to answer everyone around them. “Where’s Hawke?” Varric repeated. Hadassah’s shoulders slumped downwards as if Varric’s words had a physical weight to them.   
“S-She died a hero.” Hadassah’s voice cracked. She would have said more, but Varric had turned on his heel and was walking in the opposite direction despite Cassandra’s call. Hadassah knew better than to give chase. The person who had just murdered his best friend would be the last person Varric would want to see.   
Hadassah realized she’d been staring after Varric for far too long and Warden Alistair cleared his throat. She had difficulty concentrating on his words and not the blood that had dripped from Hawke’s temple as Hadassah had left her. Luckily, she had known long before that she was going to have the Warden’s join the Inquisition with Alistair as their new leader and allow them to rebuild as she had with the Templars. But time felt strange and Hadassah remembered little of her speech, but Warden Alistair seemed happy.   
As they journeyed back to Skyhold, all she could feel was the overwhelming sensations, the spider demons roaring, the pain from the anchor, and the most suffocating weight of the decision she had already known the answer to. It made Hadassah angry with herself that she had so quickly known it would be Hawke. That in less than a second she’d removed their humanity ignored Hawke’s friends and family, and love. She’d selfishly chose Hawke because politically, Hawke was irrelevant. A wave of guilt and self hatred washed through Hadassah.   
Dorian and Blackwall were glued to either side of Hadassah. The two of them offered small talk and jokes, but Hadassah barely remembered the whole journey. Upon arrival back at Skyhold, Hadassah walked past the Healers and hoards of people welcoming them at the gate. She sauntered up the stairs, past the throne and went straight to her room. Hadassah only unsheathed her two handed sword from her back and let it clatter on the floor, then crawled onto the bed and curled her knees to her chest. 

***

Blackwall waited patiently through Alistair’s account of what happened in the fade. Normally the Inquisitor would be the one to inform the advisors, but she had retired to her quarters without a word. From what he had seen, Hadassah hadn’t appeared to be in any condition to explain what had happened in the Fade. Considering it was Hadassah’s order for Hawke to stay behind, it wasn’t a leap for Blackwall to assume she must have taking on the guilt. But if she had locked herself in her room, she may have preferred to be alone at the current. So Blackwall reluctantly allowed Hadassah her space.   
Once noon came around the next day and no one had seen the Inquisitor, Blackwall started to worry. He had fought at her side and knew she’d received a few injuries, although he didn’t think any were severe. Beyond that, he worried the guilt was eating at her more than he had thought. He hoped she would come out when she was ready and she wasn’t yet. That was fine. He helped Leliana, Cullen, and Josephine to maintain her duties. Kept them organized and ready for her return.  
That evening Blackwall decided to hell with space, he needed to see she was okay. And if she wasn’t, then he needed to help her through whatever she was going through. When he walked up the first set of stairs, he was taken aback to see Leliana and an agent outside the Inquisitor’s door. The agent was kneeling and appeared to be attempting to pick the lock. The Spymaster quickly hit her agent's arm causing him to stand him up abruptly. Blackwall raised an eyebrow at her and Leliana rolled her eyes, but sent the agent away.   
“When I saw the fourth meal get brought back untouched, I started to-well, I just wanted to make sure the Inquisitor was alright.” Leliana sighed.   
“Right, so naturally your method was to break in the Inquisitor's quarters and what? Force feed her?” Blackwall chuckled, despite the uneaten food concerning him greatly. When Leliana neglected to respond, Blackwall pinched the bridge of his nose. “Maker balls, that’s exactly what you were going to do.”   
“Well what was your plan?” She demanded. Blackwall reached in his pocket and held up a brass key.   
“I have her spare.” Leliana smirked and raised her eyebrows. Blackwall’s eyes widened at the implication “Not in a weird way, I assure you”   
“Of course, Warden Blackwall. I’ll leave you to it.” She teased. “But seriously, update me on how she’s doing. Our friends are worried. I’m worried.” Leliana turned to leave and Blackwall knocked on the door and announced his presence before unlocking the door and walking up the stairs as not to startle Hadassah.  
The sight of Hadassah made his heart drop to the floor. He rounded to the other side of the bed to get a better look. She still wore her blood soaked armour. Some of it was dried, but some was an uncomfortable sticky substance that had all but ruined the blankets. Her hair was matted with the crimson as well. She was curled up in a ball, her eyes looked out in some far away distance. He knelt in front, but her eyes stared right through him.   
“Dassie...” He whispered. Blackwall gingerly brushed a soaked strand of hair out of her blood splattered face and tucked it behind her ear. Blackwall ordered for a hot bath to be drawn for the Inquisitor. Once the tub in the room was filled and the servant left, he gently lifted Hadassah up. She moved with his motion and stayed when he let go, but she made no effort to move on her own accord. Blackwall stripped her unceremoniously and guided her to the bath. He took off his coat and rolled up his sleeves and scrubbed the blood from her hands and under her fingernails, detangled her hair, and examined some of the untreated injuries she had received. Most of them weren’t severe, but there were two that Blackwall knew would need stitches or a healer. He was just thankful they hadn’t been infected and cursed himself for not coming sooner.   
Hadassah had made no noise the whole time, though he thought she saw the glaze in her eyes beginning to fade. He dressed her in fresh clothes, bandaged and treated injuries to the best of his abilities, only when he began brushing her long copper hair did he see her shoulders begin to tremble. At first he’d thought she was just cold, but a sound followed. Blackwall realized she was crying. As Blackwall wrapped one of his arms around Hadassah and pressed his lips in her damp curls .   
It occurred to him that this was the first time he’d ever witnessed her cry. She hadn’t cried through being told she had to stitch the sky and would probably die either from that or from a trial. She hadn’t shed a tear for the cruel words and unpleasant comments about her culture and her time in the Carta. She hadn’t cried through trying to clean up what remained of the Templars and having a demon waltz through her head and use her worst fears against her. And she hadn’t cried when she nearly gave her life for Haven and trudged through snow for hours on end.   
Of course Blackwall realized she very well may have been crying for all of those at this very moment. Adamant had just been the event to open the dam. The sobs were long and hard. The kind that came from a special kind of anguish only few endured. After a while, when it seemed she had stopped. Hadassah sniffled and looked up at Blackwall and he cupped her cheek in his hand, using his thumb to wipe away a few tears.   
“What do you need?” He asked quietly.   
“Can you stay with me? Please?” She asked. Blackwall smiled and scooted back to lay against the head of the bed. He guided Hadassah next to him and he wrapped his arms around her tightly as she rested her head on his chest. Hearing his heartbeat was so soothing. She allowed the sound and the feeling nestled in his arms to lull her to sleep, exhausted from her cry.   
There was little enough Blackwall could do to relieve Hadassah’s burden as leader. If helping her take care of herself and holding her through a tough night was what he needed to do, then he’d do it. He’d need to get a healer for those gashes, but he’d cleaned them thoroughly enough, he decided he let her rest for another hour in his arms. Because an hour of rest and comfort for Hadassah was rare as it was. He would let her sleep in peace for just one more hour.


End file.
